


Home for the Holidays

by geekmama



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: F/M, Post-At World's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmama/pseuds/geekmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles written for Erinya, per her Secret Santa request: Jack visiting Shipwreck Cove for Christmas. In the spirit of hundreds of movies about coming home for the holidays. Humor, romance, family antics, JE romantic comedy, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home for the Holidays

**Advent**

_ ** I’ll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me…** _

_ **o-o ** _

The _Black Pearl _had been expected a month since. Now, with Christmas a week away, the weather turned foul, and Jamie asked, "Will he make it back, mother?"

Elizabeth smoothed his brow. "Jack just likes to make a grand entrance. You'll see."

She was proved correct the following day. A storm of emotions gripped her at the sight of the _Pearl_'s flags jauntily aflutter, but joy prevailed when he swayed down the gangplank, worn and wet, but eyes alight.

"Missed you like the devil, love," he said, roughly. She was enfolded and held, a stillness of perfect peace.

Home, indeed.

* * *

  


**Decorating**

_ **Of all the trees within the wood, the holly bears the crown…** _

**o-o**

He'd brought a mountain of greenery, stuffed into the _Pearl_'s hold. "Can't have Christmas without decking the halls, can we?" he grinned.

"The Hall of the Brethren?" Elizabeth chuckled, and told Jamie, "My old nurse used to swear the holly's prickles would serve to keep bad sprites away."

Jack tsked disapprovingly. "Pagan tales. The berries are red for the blood of Christ, and the prickles for His crown of thorns." At Elizabeth's bemusement he added, "Pack o' nuns told me. Spent Christmas in a convent one time. Very accommodating, they were."

"Jack!"

He winked at her. "_Captain Jack Sparrow_, love."

* * *

  


**Tree**

_ ** O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum, how richly God has decked thee…** _

**o-o**

"Mother, Helmut's family has a tree in their front room!"

"A _tree?_

Jack nodded. "I'd heard the Hessians've taken to doing that." He set his feet on the floor, and his pipe on the table. "Let's go look."

Jamie led the way, and they were welcomed with smiles and hot, spiced wine. Elizabeth was amazed by the tree. It was a small pine, beautifully decorated with flowers, hearts, and stars of colored paper. Its balsam scent filled the room.

"We will light the candles on Christmas Eve. It is a piece of home," said Helmut's mother.

"It’s lovely!" Elizabeth breathed.

o-o-o

Two evenings later Jamie burst in, ran to hug her, then pulled her by the hand. “It’s a surprise! Come see!”

She laughed. “What have you and Uncle Jack been up to, mite?”

“You’ll see. Come _on!_”

In the Hall of the Brethren, Jack, some Pearls, and several friends from the Cove waited before – a _tree!_

It was taller and fuller than Helmut’s and shimmered in the light of the lamps, for it was hung all over with sparkling jewels, and bright coins of every nation.

“_Oh!_”

Jack grinned, and slipped an arm about her waist. “You like it, then!”

* * *

  


**Wassail**

_ ** Wassail, wassail all over the town…** _

** o-o**

Jamie had never had such fun! His first time wassailing! A big crew of merrymakers set off the night before Christmas Eve, singing gaily and wandering about the Cove, and demanding a wassail cup wherever they happened to light.

“Can I try some?” Jamie’d quietly begged his mother at the first house.

“Just a sip,” she’d smiled.

At the next stop he’d tugged on Uncle Jack’s sleeve, and was rewarded with a wink and a bigger sip. A bit further on Mr. Gibbs did the honors, most generously. Then Pintel, Marty, and finally Captain Teague, who narrowed his eyes, chuckling. “Gettin’ a bit well to live there, boy?”

“I’m fine!” Jamie assured him, but as luck would have it, a wall bumped him and he stumbled and sat heavily on a step, just at the wrong time. “I’m fine!” he said again, to his mother, who was staring at him open-mouthed.

“Enough wassailing for you, tonight, me lad,” Uncle Jack said, lending him a hand, then sweeping him up when the world began to tilt.

“Jamie!” cried his mother.

But Uncle Jack hushed her – “He’s fine, love – or he will be!” – and sang to Jamie as he carried him home.

* * *

  


**Yule Log**

_ **See the blazing Yule before us…** _

**o-o **

Under the greenery, the _Pearl_’s hold had cradled a Yule Log, impressive in girth and freshly cut. On Christmas Eve, in the presence of the King and the assembled company, it was brought into the Hall of the Brethren with all due ceremony and placed upon the hearth that had been built at one end of the great room long ago, just for that purpose.

“Burn for days, it will, an’ no work for us while it does!” Ragetti rubbed his hands together in glee. “That’s the _rules!_”

“Had enough work cuttin’ it,” said Pintel. “We _deserve_ a holiday after that!”

“That right?” Captain Sparrow gave the two a sidelong glance. He reached into the pocket of his coat, drew out some slips of paper and handed one to each. “That’s to write your sins upon, then you throw ‘em in the fire, for a fresh beginning. Another _rule_, savvy?”

The Captain walked away, and Ragetti considered his slip of paper disconsolately.

Pintel muttered, “Daft bugger. We’re pirates, ain’t we? We’re _supposed_ to be sinners!”

“Nothin’ wrong wiv a fresh start for one’s immortal soul,” Ragetti objected. “It’s just….”

“What? We ain’t _lit’rate?_”

“Well, aye. And the paper’s too small.”

* * *

  


**Mistletoe**

_ **It must have been the mistletoe…** _

_ **o-o** _

Music and dancing were the order of the evening, and Elizabeth was certainly dressed for the occasion. Her gown was magnificent, fit for a King, all gold satin and quantities of ecru lace, shot with tiny gold beads amid the elaborate embroidery. She’d had a long bath that afternoon, to which Jack had borne happy witness, and her hair was freshly washed, curled, and swept up to reveal the beautiful contours of her face.

Yet she also looked younger, somehow, and very much the Governor’s daughter he’d known so many years before, and there was a certain internal niggling within him because of it, in spite of knowing exactly who and what she really was, and in spite of being quite well turned out himself – the burgundy brocade coat he’d appropriated from their last haul was just the thing for the holiday and provided a very nice contrast to all that regal gold.

He spent the whole of their first dance arguing with himself about it, performing each careful step, each precise movement like the gentleman he wasn’t but was certainly capable of pretending to be, until the final notes of the music were fading away, leaving them in the dead center of the room. Then she smiled, those lovely lips curving deliciously, and pulled him close and kissed him in front of God and everybody.

He recovered from his surprise in time to savor the pleasure of it, to enter into it with some fervor, and, when she ended it, even to smile back and say provocatively, “_Pirate?_”

She raised a brow, but dimpled too, and cast her glance briefly aloft. “_Mistletoe._”

* * *

  


**Feasting**

_ ** The boar’s head in hand bear I, bedecked with bay and rosemary…** _

**o-o **

Gibbs had been in charge of the planning, and cooks and ingredients for this year’s feast had been fetched from the colonies in the north. The menu was varied and plentiful: Wassail, Egg Nog, Cider, Cheese Wafers, Pumpkin Chips, Chilled Crab Gumbo, a Virginia Ham, Roast Tom Turkey, Fresh Mushroom Dressing, Beaten Biscuits, Corn Pudding, Creamed Celery with Pecans, Chicken and Oyster Pie, Cucumber Pickle, Lettuce Salad with a Boiled Dressing, Ambrosia, Mince Pie with Rum Butter Sauce, Filbert Pudding, Honey Flummery, Plum Pudding, Madeira, Coffee, and Walnuts. And the execution of it ensured by the considerable largesse Jack had distributed amongst the several cooks. They had performed admirably, and the enormous table fairly groaned with their handiwork.

“Fit for a King,” said Gibbs, surveying the feast with great satisfaction.

“Fit for a _Pirate_ King,” Elizabeth agreed, and stood and raised her glass to him, along with the entire company.

* * *

  


**Carols**

_ **Joyous voices sweet and clear sing, the sad of heart to cheer…** _

**o-o **

There was a quiet time after the great feast. Young Jamie sat at Teague's feet, nodding, while the songs went on, one after another, old songs, from before Cromwell's time, and newer ones from less restrictive lands. Songs of drinking, of Christmas cheer, of winter nights, of a young mother and a baby born in a stable. They were beautiful songs, every one of them, and the voices raised around them were beautiful, too. Teague bent low over his instrument, his hands caressing her shape, gentle on her strings. It was hard at times like these, hard to remember his Isabelle, and his Jackie when he was a little lad, hard to deny the sting of tears behind his eyes. And so he sang, song after song, sang of the Mother and Child, for weren't they worthy of song whether their story was true in all its particulars or not?

* * *

  


**Nativity**

** _There is no rose of such virtue…_ **

**o-o**

It was just after midnight, and he should have been tucked in bed with a cozy armful of Lizzie, instead of traipsing about the bloody Cove to join her in an activity he'd have given much to avoid. Susannah was a very capable midwife. A half dozen helpers, including the Pirate King herself, seemed excessive. And anyway, what Fanny Blake was doing having a baby on this of all nights was quite beyond him.

When he reached the Blake lodgings, poor Mr. Blake was sitting alone outside, looking utterly lost. Jack came to sit beside him, and winced as a terrible cry issued from the house. He'd come prepared, however, and handed the harassed young husband appropriate medication.

Blake took a long swig, his hand trembling. Then he said to Jack, "She's going to die, isn't she? It's too soon… the baby—"

But he was interrupted by another, very different cry from the house.

Jack grinned, pleased to have missed most of it. "The baby sounds pissed, mate. You're going to have your hands full."

"Fanny!"

Blake had jumped to his feet, but Jack reacted swiftly, rescuing the rum and stopping the new father before he could burst through the door. "Easy lad, give 'em a chance to—"

"She might be dead!"

The boy was nearly in tears, and Jack was well aware of the truth of his statement. He turned to rap on the door, but it opened abruptly and Elizabeth was there, all smiles. "It's over, and Susannah says they're doing well! Just a few more minutes." And she gave Jack a quick kiss before shutting them out again.

Blake stared at the closed door, then turned to Jack in wonder. "She's all right?"

"Of course she is!" Jack grinned. "Merry Christmas, son. Have another drink!"

* * *

  


**Star**

_ ** Star of wonder, star of night…** _

**o-o**

It was an hour before dawn, and Elizabeth stood at the window gazing out at her city, the dark walls of the inner island, and the infinite stars bright above them all. She started, then smiled as Jack slipped an arm about her.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"I was looking at the stars. And thinking."

"Thinking!"

She chuckled at his tone.

He kissed her shoulder. "What of, my liege?"

She turned to him, and looked into his eyes. "Babies."

The beautiful eyes widened. "Babies? Young Blake?"

"Yes." Her gaze sank to consider his perfect lips. "But mostly… a young Sparrow."

* * *

  


**Gifts**

_ **On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…** _

**o-o **

They had spoken of it occasionally, for as careful as one was there was always the possibility. Truth be told, Jack had grown rather fond of contemplating that nebulous Possibility. He'd not let Elizabeth in on this little secret, but now, as she led him back to bed, he thought she might have guessed anyway.

They'd made love countless times over the last five years, but now that Possibility and what it might mean for each of them in the months and years ahead, seemed to make it all new again, made him feel like some callow lad, every sense almost unbearably heightened as she drew him to her with studied purpose.

Yet it was clear to him that it was the same for her. They were on equal footing in this unexplored land, setting aside fear for wonder, and, at the last, caught in the heart of love itself.

* * *

  


**Family**

_ **Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand…** _

**o-o **

Elizabeth slept far too late for a Christmas morning, and Jack was gone from the room when she woke. She dressed hurriedly, though she couldn't seem to help smiling as she did so. Absurd… and yet perhaps Jack was right and madness was the better option. She laid a hand over the place where that Possibility might rest and hoped.

She found Jack and Jamie in Teague's rooms, where they'd agreed to meet for breakfast. Teague was strumming his guitar, again, and Jack was teaching Jamie a new card game. But all of them looked up smiling when she entered and Jamie leapt to his feet and ran to hug her.

"Uncle Jack gave me a cribbage board, and a real knife, and he's going to show me how to carve a dolphin to give to Father the next time we see him, and there's a feast for breakfast, too. Isn't it the best Christmas ever?"

Jack's smile had turned sly and the light in his eyes inordinately proud, and his mobile countenance was so indicative of his agreement with Jamie's sentiment that Elizabeth could not help but chuckle. "Yes, darling. I believe you're right. The very best Christmas ever."

_ ** Finis ** _


End file.
